


secrets, but not the bad kind.

by Been_Winchestered



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, S3 AU, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:25:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Been_Winchestered/pseuds/Been_Winchestered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>crazy stupid things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	secrets, but not the bad kind.

**Author's Note:**

> For Rachel. (press on! you've got this!)

I.  
When you think you’re going to die, you do crazy stupid things. 

You tell her you love her. You tell her everything will be okay, even though she has her hand shoved in your guts to keep you alive.

When you wake in some dingy rural hospital, drugged up and thirsty, you give her a smile.

When she asks if you will follow her to Iceland, you say yes.

—-

II.  
A year in Iceland, and somehow, its still beautiful and weird. They both bitch and complain about it in turn, of course, but slowly its becoming home.

He still counts her pulse while she sleeps, finds her wrist in the dark every night. Maybe its habit, maybe its some misplaced affection. He isn’t sure.

She hasn’t screwed him wild on a counter again, but she still teases him about the look he’d had on his face. She screws him wild on other surfaces.

They don’t fake accents to deceive each other anymore, they do it to make each other laugh. She likes to mimic the locals. He has a California boy routine that makes her snort laughing every time.

They still keep secrets, but not the bad kind. He doesn’t tell her Fee is coming to visit until they are on the way to pick him up. She forges a resume and gets him a job in ceramics, and doesn’t tell him until she secures an interview.

When they fight, its loud, but it isn’t hateful. Once, she fell into old patterns, pummeled her fists on his chest and told him she was leaving. He didn’t buy it. He poured her a drink, told her to throw the thrift store dishes if she needed something to break, not his pottery. That almost got him a smile. She said she might still be there in the morning.

She was.


End file.
